


Tell Me

by LadyKenz347



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dirty Talk, F/M, Praise Kink, bed sharing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-13
Updated: 2019-10-13
Packaged: 2020-12-14 04:23:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21009671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyKenz347/pseuds/LadyKenz347





	Tell Me

**A/N: Someone unfortunately had to drop out of Kinktober so I picked up this prompt last minute! It is, unfortunately, not a triad or multi… but I hope you enjoy some kinky fuckery nonetheless. **

  
  


xXx

Hermione tapped the tip of her finger on the corner of the book laid open on her lap. This entire “slumber party” at the Burrow had been Ginny’s bloody idea, and now it was all too obvious  _ why. _

Hermione Granger was a decoy. Surely doting Molly and sweet little Arthur wouldn’t think twice about having their daughter and her betrothed under one roof the weekend of the wedding so long as  _ Hermione _ was sharing her quarters. 

And so, Molly and Arthur had scurried off to bed with a wistful look at their soon-to-be-wed daughter and swiftly locked the door behind them. Ginny wasted exactly five minutes before she snuck out of the confines of her room and up to the former twins’ room where Harry was staying for the weekend prior to the nuptials. 

In true Ginny fashion, she’d not yet returned. Bloody brilliant. Every creak in this damned house sent a flutter of nerves into Hermione’s belly, waiting for Molly to burst through the door and demand to know where Ginny had stowed away—and presumably why Hermione had failed at keeping the little lioness in her gilded cage. 

So, she waited… and waited. And  _ still _ Ginny didn’t return. Hermione stared at the words on the pages of her book until her eyes were watery and the ink seemed to bleed together and still no Ginny. 

Suddenly, the door was kicked open, and Hermione cursed as she gathered the tattered quilt over Ginny’s bed and bunched it up around her. She expected Molly, but wouldn’t have been surprised with either Arthur or Ronald either. 

However, she  _ was _ rather surprised to see a shirtless Charlie Weasley looming in the doorway with a heavy brow and annoyed disposition pinching his features. 

“ _ Charlie _ !” Hermione’s heart thudded painfully in her chest, her fingers curling into the sheets as she flattened herself against the rickety headboard. “Ginny is—”

Her mind blanked. Merlin, help her… for all the brilliant thoughts that Hermione had at any given time in her life, she couldn’t think of one bloody thing to follow up  _ Ginny is… _

“Ginny is upstairs fucking Harry Potter?” Charlie finished with a scoff, entering the room and slamming the door shut behind him. The man was so thick with muscle that she swore she felt the very bones of the Burrow quake under his step. “Ask me how I know this, Hermione.”

She gulped, all of a sudden too aware of the fact that she wasn’t wearing any pajama bottoms of her own and instead was clad only in an oversized Quidditch t-shirt she’d knicked from Ron’s trunk last night. At the same time that she became painfully aware of her own lack of clothing, she noticed Charlie’s as well. 

Merlin, the man was stacked within an inch of his life. Strips of thick muscle banded around every limb, defined and cut. Across his broad chest was a smattering of trim red hair that resumed again just below his belly button and disappeared in a soft trail leading to his…

“ _ Hermione? _ ” Charlie’s voice had taken on a new tone, and her gaze shot from where his low slung pyjama trousers hung; she was determined to keep her eyes locked on his face for the rest of this conversation. “Do you know how  _ I know _ what my baby sister is up to at this time of night?” 

Above them the ceiling creaked, dust raining down over their heads as Hermione bared her teeth in an awkward grimace. “I have no idea whatsoever.” 

“Well, I’m not sure how much you know about the layout of the house, but Bill and I shared a room as kids. That room was and  _ is _ directly adjacent to the twins’ room. But the twins aren’t in their room, are they?”

The authoritative, dominant timber of Charlies voice woke something deep in Hermione, and she felt her sex pulse with need. Clamping her thighs together and bringing her book up to cover her chest, she nodded along. 

“My little sister is currently in the twins’ room, and with that little twip Potter, nonetheless.” Charlie carded his hand through his overgrown locks, crossed the room towards the bed, and fell in an graceful plop next to her. 

Hermione blanched. “Charlie! What on earth are you doing?”

“I’m not bloody going back up there to listen to those lovebirds shake the house for the remainder of the night. You can take my bed if you like or you can stay here.” Charlie folded his hands behind his head, his lips quirking up in a delicious smirk as he peered up at her. “I only bite when asked, Hermione.”

“Well, I’m not going there to listen to them have sex, either! This is  _ my _ bed,” Hermione retorted with a huff. “And I’m not scared of you, Charlie Weasley. I know you like to come across all dangerous, but you’re still Ron’s big brother to me. I’ve still seen your bum when you went skinny dipping in the lake, and no one with a freckled bum can be considered dangerous in my opinion.” 

In a swift roll, Charlie propped himself up on his elbow and bit down on the flesh of his lower lip as his gaze danced over Hermione’s features. His slow appraisal of her made her breath hitch, and she couldn’t help but stare back. Never mind, Charlie Weasley  _ was  _ definitely dangerous. 

“I didn’t realize you were looking at my bum, Hermione. Only seems fair I get to see yours.” 

A fervid blush spread from her neck to the tips of her ears and her eyes blew wide and round. Her lips parted, eyes squinting as she begged her mind to come up with a proper quip back but, as per usual, where Ginny’s beef-cake brother was concerned, her brain failed her spectacularly. 

Charlie took her long pause as an invitation, moving to hover over her as she sank into the mattress just to create some distance between them. “What d’ya say, Hermione? You up for a little pre-wedding fun as well?” 

He shouldered his weight on one hand, the other one moving to her waist and gripping her firmly as she dragged in a desperate gasp of air. 

“Wh-what?” She blinked, completely intoxicated by the sudden proximity and overwhelming masculine scent of him. She wanted nothing more than to wrap her legs around his waist and be pressed into this mattress until she saw stars but, at the most inopportune time, her mind decided to wake. “We couldn’t possibly. It wouldn’t be appropriate—”

Her excuse died on her tongue as Charlie dipped his lips closer to hers, his warm breath fanning over hers, and she faltered, her mouth moving of its own accord to chase his. Before she could claim him, he rolled back onto his side of the bed in an ungraceful heap and let out a loud sigh. 

“Fine, then. We’ll  _ sleep _ . How fun,” Charlie said, biting back a grin as he tossed one tattoo’d arm over his eyes and fell silent. 

Hermione’s jaw fell open, her eyes bugging out of her head as she stared at the shirtless Weasley in her bed. The enchanted dragon tattoo winding around his shoulder curled up, its tail wrapping around its body as it, too, fell into a light slumber. Merlin’s beard, she’d almost kissed Charlie Weasley. Hell, she’d almost  _ fucked _ Charlie Weasley.

Sucking in a sobering breath, Hermione deposited her book on the end table and smoothed the sheets around her.  _ Perspective.  _ That’s all she needed. Deep breaths and perspective and all would be right with the— 

_ Oh, holy hells. _ With his arm all tucked up like that over his face, his pyjamas had tugged further down and she could see the start of his thatch of…

_ No. “Nox.”  _

With the lights safely dimmed, Hermione snuggled down under the quilt. She had spent a lot of her life ignoring unwelcome feelings; surely she could ignore the throbbing between her legs for a few hours while Ginny completed her business with Harry, and then all would be right with the world again. She’d make it through the wedding, and then Charlie would again be whisked off to Romania and that was that. 

But even under the cover of darkness she felt an insatiable need to be closer to him, to finish the almost-kiss from earlier and feel the tensing of his muscles under her palm. 

No. She could do this. _ She could.  _

xXx

She couldn’t do this. It’d been an hour already and Hermione’s eyes were just as plastered open as they had been sixty minutes ago, and the ache between her legs heightened with each passing breath. 

Maybe she ought to just indulge in what the wizard had offered her before it was too late.  _ It was just one night _ … she tried to reason with herself. 

Charlie stirred, his arm dropping away from his face and coming down to grip at his groin. Hermione stole a peek down at him as he fussed with himself, and her breath stuck painfully in her throat when she saw that he was adjusting a massive erection in his sleep. 

She was done for. Absolutely, positively, done for. She was a woman possessed as her tiny hand reached out and laid flat on the rippled muscles of his abdomen. Charlie’s eyes shot open at the contact, his hand moving up to capture her wrist as he blinked himself into awareness. 

Panting, Hermione’s eyes darted to his tented pyjama’s and then back up to his face, her tongue sliding out to wet her lips. A slow grin spread over Charlie’s face, his pale blue eyes darkening as his hold slipped from her wrist to the back of her hand, guiding it down his chiseled stomach until her tiny palm was wrapping around the thick length of him. 

He sucked in a harsh breath through his teeth as she rubbed him through the thin cotton of his trousers, her own knickers a mess as she let out a low whimper. 

“Say yes,” he breathed, his voice low and husky, barely audible. 

She slid closer to him on the bed, the quilt slipping down and pooling around her knees. “Yes.” She swore she saw the flicker of a smug smirk paint across his features before his hands tangled in her curls and his hips thrust into her grip. 

A small whimper escaped her as he claimed her mouth, nipping and sucking, exploring every inch of her while his fingers tightened and tugged in her hair. He broke away, scooting up the bed until his back was pressed against the headboard and with a firm grip he lifted her and deposited her onto his lap, pushing up into her as she cried out. He was so confident that his hands didn’t tremble, his touch sure and purposeful as he rucked her shirt up around her hips and filled his palms with the flesh of her arse. 

He peppered kisses along her throat and collarbone. “You’d look better in a Seeker’s jersey. Fucking Ronnie—” Rough hands slid up the ladder of her ribs as she heaved in a desperate breath, the tips of his fingers brushing along the curve of her breast. “Tell me what you like.” 

“Wh-what?” she stammered, her head falling back as a calloused thumb slid across her pebbled nipple. “I like what you’re doing. Exactly what you’re doing—” she gasped as he rolled the tip of her nipple between his fingers just, his teeth biting down on the juncture of muscle between her neck and shoulder. “What do you like?” 

“I like marking you like this so tomorrow everyone will wonder if it’s me who’s been inside you. I like when you can’t sit without remembering I’ve fucked you.” His hands lifted the hem of her t-shirt, baring her breasts to him as he laved them in wet, open mouthed kisses and took one nipple between his teeth, nipping until she was on the brink of pleasure and pain. “What do you like, Hermione?” 

He was everywhere all at once, and the sensation of him surrounding her with his body heat and rough touch loosened her tongue. “I like it when you talk to me like that,” she confessed as he palmed her breasts with a rough touch. “I like— I like…”

“Say it.” One hand slid from her breast and under the seam of her knickers, his fingers resting in the crease of her bum as he massaged her arse. 

“I like being told  _ things.”  _ Digging her nails into his scarred chest, her face screwed up as she gnawed on her lip and tried to focus. 

“I can’t do it if you don’t tell me, Hermione. Tell me.” 

“I like being—” she gulped, her eyes clenching shut as she rolled her hips. “I want to be told—”

“That you’re a good girl?” Hermione keened, even as she heard the wicked smirk in his voice. He sat up, his chest brushing against her still-exposed breasts, and she inhaled sharply. “You’re a good girl, Hermione. Do you want to make me happy, love?” 

“ _ Yes.” _

“That’s my girl. Take your shirt off for me.” Charlie smiled against her neck before resting back against the headboard and staring at her with a hungry glint to his eyes. 

Lifting her shirt over her head, she felt a blush spread over her skin as she sat on Charlie’s lap in naught but her knickers. He groaned, flexing his hips so he could thrust against her, and some of her anxiety dissipated. 

“Play with your tits for me, Hermione. They’re perfect, absolutely perfect.”

Hands trembling, she lifted her hands to cup her breasts, filling her hands with the weight of them and letting her eyes flutter closed as she lost herself in her own touch, rocking her hips against him as she did. 

“You’re so fucking sexy. Do you know how long I’ve wanted to fuck you? Watching you bend over that fucking counter reading a book—” Hermione whimpered, her head falling further back as her jaw fell open and even though his hands were still tucked neatly behind his head, she felt herself on the brink of an orgasm. “Slide your hand down for me, love. Touch yourself.” 

Trailing her fingers down the flat expanse of her stomach she dipped her hand inside her knickers, quickly finding the source of the throbbing ache and pressing two fingers lightly against herself. 

“I want to see you come.” 

Hermione shook her head, the hand still holding her breast falling to the thick muscle of his chest as she rocked forward under her own touch. “No, I need you to—”

“Be patient, love. You’ll have me. You’re just so bloody beautiful like this; I want to see you fall apart before I even touch you. I’ll make it worth it, love.  _ Come for me _ .” 

As he spoke, Hermione’s fingers moved quicker against her pulsing clit; after only a few swipes of her fingers she was cresting, every synapse of her body firing and releasing as she threw her head back in a trembling orgasm. 

“That’s my good girl. There you go, love.” Charlie shifted underneath her, tugging his pyjama’s down so that the heat of his cock was pressed against her. The last spasms of her orgasm flooded her body, and Charlie gripped her hand, taking it from inside her knickers and bringing her fingers to his lips. She stuttered as he licked them, pulling them in to suck the moisture off them. “I’m going to fuck you until you can’t see straight, love. Can you handle that?”

“Yes,” she whined, pushing her fingers deeper into his mouth as she bucked against his erection. Both of his hands moved to the side of her knickers and with a firm rip they were ruined, tossed off to the side without another thought. 

She could feel the thrumming of him between her folds, and her sex coated his shaft as she whimpered and begged for  _ more-more-more. _ Charlie’s massive hands slid under her bum, lifting her easily and positioning her entrance over the tip of his weeping cock. 

“Go slow for me,” he commanded through gritted teeth. “That’s right, just like that.” 

Hermione’s breath ceased as he filled her. She was no stranger to a large male appendage, but the sheer thickness of him stretched her and touched her in places she swore she’d never known existed until he was brushing against them. A broken moan slipped past her lungs, and he hushed her as her head fell back. 

“ _ Shhh.  _ Don’t want Mum to hear you,” he whispered when she was finally fully seated on his lap. His fingers curled around her hips, rocking her back and forth as she let out feminine little whimpers with each movement. 

“ _ Fuck _ . It feels—”

“Say it,” he growled, pushing up into her. 

“You feel so fucking good, Charlie.” 

“That’s a good girl. Can you take more?” Hermione nodded, and he began a quick rhythm, rocking her on his lap and brushing her clit against his pelvis. After a few purposeful thrusts, her body flooded with another orgasm, waves cresting and crashing as she dug her nails into his chest hair and her body tightened. “That’s it, sweet girl. You did so good for me,” Charlie crooned as her body went nearly limp on top of him. 

He moved them, rolling her off his lap until she was on her side and he was just behind her, pulling her knee up towards her belly and sliding inside her. She let out a wild cry into the pillow, burying her face as one of his hands came up to thread through her curls and wrench her head back, exposing the long column of her throat. 

Charlie drove into her relentlessly, each slap of their skin earning a small gust of air as she clutched at her pillow. “You’re so good at taking my cock, Hermione. You’re fucking perfect. I could fuck you for hours, make you come until you can’t fucking see straight, and then I’d start all over again.” 

He continued whispering filthy nothings in her ear as he dropped wet kisses wherever he could reach, never ceasing his thrusts as he finally stilled and groaned, spilling inside her. One hand slid to her breast, squeezing her as he came with haggard breaths. 

They fell apart, her limbs jellied and useless as she caught her breath. 

“That was fucking incredible,” Charlie breathed, the corners of his lips lilting in a smile. 

“Yeah?” She chuckled. “You’re not so bad yourself.” 

“Thank Merlin it’s only Thursday.” Rolling up onto his hands, he caged her with massive arms, leaning down to press a soft kiss to her lips and settling between her thighs. 

Hermione’s eyes rounded when she realized he was still hard and pressing back inside her. “Charlie, how on earth—”

“I told you, love. I could fuck you for hours—and I intend to. And we still have the entire weekend.” Hermione back arched off the mattress, her knees hitching up around his hips as he filled her in a single thrust, smug smirk plain on his face. “Now be a good girl and hold on tight. Can’t let Pissy little Potter show me up in my own house.” 

Hermoine tried to laugh, but as soon as Charlie was moving inside her, she was lost, clinging to him as he brought her to the edge of oblivion again… and again… and  _ again _ .

xXx

**A/N: Ravenslight is a gem of gems for beta’ing this little diddy for me. Sorry it’s not a triad for the advent but I hope you enjoyed it all the same! May your day be filled with kinks, friends. **

**Until next time - LK**

  
  



End file.
